


The Star to Every Wandering Bark

by Lepidopteran (inarticulate)



Series: Rúnyo [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: First Time, Half-Cousin Incest, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 09:17:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2304554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inarticulate/pseuds/Lepidopteran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maitimo and Findekáno get married.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Star to Every Wandering Bark

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Любовь — звезда, которою моряк определяет место в океане](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12921657) by [rio_abajo_rio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rio_abajo_rio/pseuds/rio_abajo_rio)



> Title from Shakespeare's Sonnet 116.

"I want to wed you under the stars," Findekáno said when Maitimo awoke. He lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, and he gazed down at Maitimo as though he could not drink in enough of the sight. Maitimo knew Findekáno had looked him like that before, many a time, but his breath still caught in his throat. Findekáno grinned, and Maitimo looked to the side so that he might breathe again.

"It matters not to me the where or the how," he said, his voice rough. "I simply do not wish to be parted from you." He reached up to catch Findekáno's left hand in his, making their betrothal rings clink together softly. "Though," he added, "if we tarry overlong making plans before the feast, my brothers and sister alike shall intrude as they have always done."

Findekáno laughed and leaned down to press a long kiss to Maitimo's mouth. "It hardly feels real anymore that we shall be wedded tonight," he said, "after so many centuries I spent dreaming of this day."

Maitimo pulled him back down for another kiss, to feel the slick shift of Findekáno's lips against his. He could make no reply; Findekáno knew well the guilt Maitimo carried for his part in how long they had been forced to wait. And, sure enough, when he withdrew again he found Findekáno's smile to be one of gentle acceptance.

"I love you," Findekáno said softly. "Would that I could keep you to myself up here instead of sharing you at the feast. Losing you so often has made me selfish; I lost you first in Valinor to the distance between our families, and I lost you again when I traveled to Beleriand and found you gone. I found you again and lost you to Himring, and a fourth time at my death. And still I lost you again, when Rúnyo's body died. I believed you gone forever for four years; that is not the six we have waited for this marriage, but always before I had believed we would find each other again. Elves are not made to lose love as I have. You broke me, and it is your promise and your warmth that remake me."

Maitimo sighed and shifted so that he could rest his head on Findekáno's bare stomach. "You would have remade yourself even had I not returned," he said. "You are strong beyond all measure and the bravest of all Elves. When you were High King, I would have followed you anywhere. Would that I had, instead of falling victim to my own arrogance."

A cool breeze ruffled Maitimo's hair, and Findekáno stroked it back. "Perhaps I shall never leave your side, and in that way I shall be healed," he said, his voice light. "Would your mothers think that too strange? I care not if Findaráto does; I am still his elder in body and soul, even if you are not."

Maitimo shook his head. "None of them will think it any more strange than sharing a bed before our wedding. We have always been strange, from the very beginning." He turned his face against Findekáno's smooth skin, feeling the muscles shift under his cheek and the beat of a strong, healthy heart. The sharing of a bed in Nerdanel's home was a habit they had grown accustomed to; though an unusual arrangement by anyone's measure, their families had allowed it with a gracious ease. They all well knew the anguish of separation themselves.

"Just think: after tonight, we shall spend all our nights together."

The words startled a laugh from Maitimo. "You have only now realized?" He was about to kiss his cousin again when Carnistir pushed aside the curtain and scowled at them.

"Are you done?" he said snippily. "Some of us must listen to this. Go downstairs and greet your guests and have your marriage later, under the stars and far away from all of us."

Findekáno started to chuckle, and the sensation vibrated through Maitimo's head. "We shall be down shortly, _brother_ , and you may consider your duty as messenger discharged."

"Praise be to the Valar," Carnistir said, voice dry as dead leaves.

As soon as he had left and closed the curtain behind him, Findekáno flopped backwards. "Of all those assembled for our wedding feast, he was sent to remind us?" he laughed. "I fear without your guidance your brothers fall to terrible decisions."

The words would have stung, before his reembodiment, but Maitimo only rose and stretched. "I would take a bath, so that I do not meet your family unclean."

Findekáno threw a pillow at him. "My _family_ has seen you covered in the blood of raw mice you have devoured. You bathed last night, as did I, and the night was not hot enough to sweat; this is no ever-changing Beleriand. You either do not wish to smell of me, which is ridiculous, or you are making excuses to stall this feast. And," he added with a wicked curve of his lips, "they can hear how ridiculous you are being, so you only embarrass yourself further."

Maitimo sighed and inclined his head in acceptance. "Will you make me ready, then?" he asked, and Findekáno reached over to the table beside the pillow to brandish golden thread in Maitimo's direction. Maitimo sat down in a chair and leaned back to let Findekáno comb his hair and braid the golden thread into it. They had discussed this before, but feeling Findekáno's fingers deft and gentle in his hair, knowing the thread was there, sent a thrill through Maitimo's body.

"Your hair is as fire itself like this," Findekáno murmured. He brushed Maitimo's hair away from the nape of his neck and kissed it. "The gold is more gentle, to you, but it makes you as bright as the sun."

"I care not what it makes me beyond yours."

Findekáno's fingers paused only a moment at those words, and he did not speak after that. Maitimo closed his eyes and lost himself to the sensation.

Both of them dressed in finery; white robes with heavy green and gold embroidery crafted by Amarië's hand. Maitimo lost his breath when he turned to look at Findekáno. He looked radiant, austere, like one of the Maiar settled in temporary form. Only Findekáno was all the more beautiful, because Maitimo remembered him covered in mud and laughing with it, because Maitimo had seen him covered with blood and grim with battle.

Findekáno stepped forward, and Maitimo remembered to hold up a hand. "After the feast," he reminded Findekáno. "We have waited this long."

"I do not see why we could not have the ceremony and let them sit at the feast while we celebrate our wedding alone," Findekáno complained as they descended the stairs.

Nolofinwë snorted his laughter at that and raised up a goblet of wine. He, along with most of Findekáno's family and Findaráto's, had settled away from Fëanáro's reborn sons, but he did not seem unhappy with the state of affairs or ill at ease with their presence. Maitimo breathed a sigh of relief. Along the seam of that split, Tauriel and Irissë had settled together, and Maitimo could make out a spirited discussion of skinning technique over the small breads and strips of fish dotting the long table. Beside Tauriel, Makalaurë's face had a pinched look.

"This is a time for family," Nerdanel said firmly. She took them each by the shoulder and ushered them to the table next to Irissë. "And we have made many exceptions for you, so you can wait until the end of the feast to sneak away like thieves."

"Have you even decided who is to be the bride?" Maitimo asked. He picked up a strip of fish with his bare fingers and ate it that way, ignoring the glare this earned him from both his mothers at once.

"We have decided," Findaráto said primly, "that as there is no woman and there are three mothers, Nolofinwë and I shall instead do the honors. I will invoke Varda in your mother's place."

"There is nothing in any tradition that speaks of a ceremony like this," Anairë added, leaning forward over the table so that her earrings clinked. "You are no newly-adult Elves coming of age together; you have already died and been reborn once. There is no need to force the two of you into roles entirely unsuited."

She raised her eyes at Nolofinwë, who looked away; Maitimo took that to mean that he had advocated for one or the other being blessed by a mother. After another moment, Anairë nodded and returned her attention to Írimë. Findis' laugh from beside them might have been coincidence or response; Eärwen's was almost certainly the latter.

Maitimo smiled down at his plate as Findekáno's hand found his thigh. Around them, their family laughed and shouted and ate and drank. There was no space for sadness or guilt, here; he could not hate his marked body with Findekáno prepared to wed to it. He could only feel joyous and loved.

* * *

The ceremony, like the feast, was full of laughter. Once, Maitimo thought, it would have been a solemn occasion, with repressed smiles and quiet acknowledgement. But solemnity was not looked for so often these days; gaiety and smiles were sought more now by this many-times-broken family, and he welcomed all of it. Findaráto paused in his blessing with the pendant half-over Findekáno's head to give him a stern glare, and that set the entire gathering to gales of laughter. "I cannot help it!" Findaráto protested. "Were it any other situation, you would not expect me to cheerfully marry off my son to my cousin!"

Makalaurë's fingers did not pause on the harp as he raised his eyebrows. "If you tell me you did not know this would happen from the moment you saw the mark upon his hand, I will name you a liar," he said, and any further response was drowned out in the roar.

Maitimo looked at Findekáno to see his beloved friend standing there amid the chaos, as though he heard none of it, beaming at Maitimo. Maitimo felt his face heat, and he looked down at the ground to steady himself. He wished the ceremony were over. The laughter, as merry as it was, only drew out the moments that Maitimo could now count in heartbeats. Soon, he and Findekáno would be allowed to leave. Soon, they would be wed, alone out under the stars.

Eventually, the laughter died down enough that the ceremony could continue, and Maitimo felt his heart flutter in his chest as Nolofinwë settled the pendant on his chest. Then it was time: he and Findekáno exchanged silver rings once more and replaced them with gold, and as soon as that was done Findekáno caught Maitimo's hand and tugged him firmly towards the door. "Please feel free to remain and continue feasting until the sun rises once more in the sky," he said to all assembled, his voice carrying through the hall, "but we bid you farewell, now. No witnesses will be required for this part."

They stumbled outside, dizzy not with wine but with anticipation. Spirited well-wishes spilled out after them and faded away into the quiet of the night. Findekáno slowed once they were enough of a distance away that the feast behind them sounded a distant rumble instead of separate voices mingling together. They stopped entirely once they reached a grassy clearing overlooking a small waterfall, and Maitimo turned to cup the side of Findekáno's face in his bad hand. "You planned this well," he said softly. "When did you decide?"

"I found it after Rúnyo's body died," Findekáno admitted quietly. He leaned into Maitimo's touch with a sigh. "I came here once and did not return because the beauty did not speak to my grief. It only reminded me of my longing for what could have been, at a time when I believed it lost forever. And now that you are here, I wish to erase all sorrow associated with this beauty." He turned his head to press a kiss to Maitimo's palm. "You are lovely in the moonlight."

Maitimo's throat felt tight. He brushed his thumb over Findekáno's cheekbone, ignoring the twinge of pain the movement sent through him. Findekáno's eyes closed as he drew in an unsteady breath— not of arousal, but of overwhelming emotion. "I have never wanted to marry another," Maitimo admitted quietly. "You are the only one, and at times I would have been happy to stay unmarried so long as you lived and were content."

"I would not have been content with you so far from my side."

The words were not a confession; they were a statement so simple that Maitimo's chest hurt. He shook his head. "They say it is instinctive, what to do during a wedding, but they say this only of a wedding between two Elves who might conceive a child."

Findekáno's eyes brightened, and he smiled, full and sweet. "I do not think it is complicated; I believe our fëar shall join so long as we remain close enough." He tilted his head. "You worry that the Valar will not accept your love for me, but they already have. We need do nothing you do not want."

"I do not worry about that," Maitimo said. "I worry only that I will disappoint you."

"Never," Findekáno said, his voice fierce. He caught Maitimo's marked hand and pressed a kiss to the palm to mirror the other, just below the wedding ring. "You could never disappoint me, Maitimo."

Maitimo smiled and leaned down, for he could not help but kiss Findekáno. The air felt charged with what they were about to do. He pulled back only enough to strip his clothing and lay out the fine robes on the grass. Findekáno joined him, and they knelt there together, kissing lazily. The kisses were gentle, sweet, and Maitimo frowned; he slipped his tongue between Findekáno's lips and listened to the shocked inhale that elicited.

"Surely it is not so strange to kiss this way on a wedding bed," Maitimo said dryly as he drew back. Findekáno's eyes rested warm upon him.

"No, not so strange."

The moon and starlight bathed them, and together they lay back upon the bed they had created. Findekáno did not rush; his hands slid over Maitimo's exposed skin at the same slow pace as his kisses had taken. Maitimo returned the touches, running his hand up Findekáno's back and feeling the shifting muscles under the skin. It was nothing he had not felt a hundred times by now, for he and Findekáno had never been shy with touch. But now it felt different. These touches trailed heat and intent and the promise of repeating a thousand times more.

Time passed differently in this world they had made for themselves out under the stars, as it had in the Halls of Mandos. Maitimo did not know how long had passed before Findekáno sighed and pulled Maitimo's hips to his. He smiled at Maitimo, his full lips curving up as he hooked his leg up over Maitimo's and rolled the two of them over. Maitimo startled, putting his elbows down so that Findekáno would not be crushed beneath his weight.

"Findekáno?" Maitimo breathed, but he found himself leaning down for a kiss without waiting for an answer.

Findekáno made a low noise of approval into the kiss, and when they parted, he cupped Maitimo's face with one hand. "I do not tell you this to pressure you," he said, and Maitimo made an inquiring noise. "I have dreamed about this day my whole life. I have thought of it, of having your hands upon me, of being pressed close enough that there is no space between our skin." His smile grew wicked, and he moved his lips over Maitimo's ear. "Of having you inside of me, and being inside you in turn."

Maitimo had to close his eyes and steady his breathing after that, but Findekáno would not let him settle entirely. He rocked their hips together, creating friction and warmth that Maitimo could not help but match. Moving together like that, with heat and sweat and the knowledge of their marriage upon his heart, Maitimo felt something shift within his fëa. Findekáno started humming, then, faint and hoarse, a familiar song that carried the rhythm they moved to. The sound mingled with Maitimo's frantic breaths; he moved too hard against Findekáno and came.

Findekáno followed with a shocked sound, then laughed breathlessly and cupped his hand around the back of Maitimo's neck to haul him down. "We are married," he said. "You are mine and I am yours, until the end of Arda. No; beyond. Not even the Valar will keep us apart any longer."

"I am yours," Maitimo agreed. He rolled them both onto their sides, so that he could relax without the fear of crushing his newly-made husband. Findekáno allowed this, though he pressed closer once Maitimo had settled. Findekáno looked as though his whole body were lit from within by the purest fire, happy and alive.

It felt easy: the joining of the fëar, the release, the rest. It felt easy as nothing in Maitimo's life had before, and he found himself laughing without reason. Findekáno joined him; it was not a mocking laugh but one of utter joy. "There is a stream nearby," Maitimo said finally, when they had stopped. "Would you wash with me?"

Findekáno leaned over to lick at Maitimo's skin, and Maitimo heard a low noise emerge from his throat without conscious control. "Why? Are you so eager to be rid of the feel of me?"

"I thought we could do it again, unless you are tired already," Maitimo said, and Findekáno's eyes darkened with intent. He rolled to his feet and reached down to help Maitimo up. "Shall I take that as answer enough."

"You shall take that as whatever you like." Findekáno's teeth gleamed white. "But you should be warned that I shall take even more time, now, and I find I have a wish to know you all over not only with my fingers, but with my mouth."

Maitimo shivered. "Only if I am allowed to do the same to you."

"For ever and always, Maitimo, my beloved."


End file.
